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Dad's Army: Never Too Old (1977)
A decent but slightly underwhelming finale
The celebrated Never Too Old is the final episode of Dad's Army and it is often held up as one of the best of the series. I'd suggest that a lot of this acclaim probably stems from its status as the official final episode. Often people are so caught up in the characters and their love of the show that when they review a finale, in a way they're actually reviewing the whole series. The attachment we've formed heightens our emotions as we watch the thing we love end. Of course, a bad finale often causes magnified levels of hostility as elation turns to disappointed. Fortunately, Never Too Old is far from a bad finale but I've never been convinced that it's a great one. The story of Jones marrying Mrs. Fox is hardly the culmination of a significant plot strand as it seems to be treated by many and the final moment in which the platoon breaks the fourth wall to salute the real Home Guard of Britain is well-meaning, entirely appropriate but, for me anyway, a little bit poorly executed. The cast don't seem very comfortable with what they're doing, especially the clearly-ailing John Le Mesurier whose fidgety movements seem to say "Thank God it's finally over." On the plus side, despite its slightly anti-climactic plot, Never Too Old is full of nice little moments that feel appropriate for a final episode. One last morbid monologue from Fraser, beautifully performed by John Laurie, a dithering but well-earned toast to Mrs. Pike by Wilson, and the troops rallying round to support Jones as he awaits the answer to his proposal. These all tap into the sweet, emotional core of Dad's Army that underscored the comedy and made the show so special. Although the final series had been largely disappointing, Never Too Old at least ends things on a decent, if slightly underwhelming, note.
Dad's Army: Number Engaged (1977)
A lively, physical episode for so late in the game
The gradual improvement of series 9 continues apace with probably its best episode. Number Engaged isn't quite vintage Dad's Army but it is a very good episode. One of those heightened-stakes mini-adventures that Dad's Army did so well, Number Engaged sees the platoon guarding a crucial telephone line and finding an unexploded bomb tangled up in it. The attempts to retrieve the bomb without setting it off use good physical comedy without drifting into silly, repetitive slapstick. One scene, in which Pike plummets from an awkwardly stacked pile of furniture, is comparatively spectacular for a 70s sitcom, and the conclusion cleverly loops back to a seemingly unrelated plot point from earlier that Croft and Perry expertly layer in without drawing attention to its eventual function. It's noticeable that Arnold Ridley is missing from a good deal of the location shooting, with a brief insert of Godfrey in a studio only making this more conspicuous. Apparently he had a heavy cold during filming, which is testament to just how fragile the elderly stars of Dad's Army were becoming. It's a credit to director Bob Spiers that he could still turn in such a lively, physical episode this late in the game.
Dad's Army: The Miser's Hoard (1977)
Finally, a good series 9 episode
After a terrible opening trio of episodes of the final series, Dad's Army finally returns to some level of quality. It's a Fraser episode, with the discovery of his hoard of gold sovereigns prompting everyone in town to seek to get their hands on them in some way. Mainwaring's wants them sold to help the war effort (and to get the hefty commission he will get from Fraser depositing in his bank) and the Vicar thinks a generous donation to the upkeep of the church is in order, but Fraser has other ideas. After slipping into a slight pantomime version of the character in series seven, John Laurie has now remembered how to play Fraser, bringing the right level of broadness amongst recognisably real character traits. His blunt denunciations of those seeking his fortune are some of the highlights of the episode and, though predictable, the conclusion is satisfying. I'm not exactly sure why they brought back Fulton Mackay, already used in We Know Our Onions, as a different character, especially since it is a brief role which makes no use of his comic talents, but overall this is a neat little character episode after a barrage of silly slapstick ones.
Dad's Army: Knights of Madness (1977)
Terrible and creepy
Just one episode down the line from the slightly desperate series 9 opener Wake-Up Walmington and everyone is back in silly costumes again. At least this time there's a vaguely convincing reason for it, with the platoon staging a retelling of St. George and the Dragon for a local pageant. But the slapstick-heavy script is clearly suited to slightly younger actors. The ensemble probably could've pulled off this material in series 4 but by this stage it requires some creative direction and awkward editing. Ultimately, all the falling about, bumping of heads and wild mugging just isn't worth the effort as none of it is especially funny. Throw in some supremely creepy jokes about the very young girls netball team doing an aerobics demonstration (including a lascivious Fraser drooling over their thighs) and you've got another pretty awful series 9 episode of a show that is by now begging to be over.
Dad's Army: The Making of Private Pike (1977)
A weak episode with one interesting moment
I clearly remember the fist time I saw The Making of Private Pike. I had grown up watching and loving Dad's Army but it had been years since I watched an episode. I popped the TV on and one was just starting so I thought Great, this'll be reliably cosy viewing. The episode was The Making of Private Pike and by the end of it I thought Hang on, is Dad's Army terrible?! Fortunately, the answer was no, and there are absolutely loads of episodes that justified my long-term love of the show. But for one terrible moment I imagined I'd grown out of it and that every Dad's Army episode was as bad as The Making of Private Pike.
In the years since James Beck's death had left a hole in the ensemble, Ian Lavender had really stepped up as Pike, finding the character in spectacularly effective fashion. Croft and Perry had clearly noticed, tailoring several great scripts towards his comic talents. Unfortunately, The Making of Private Pike isn't one of them. This tale of Pike's fleeting and passionless dalliance with Hodges' niece Sylvia (played in that game 70s sitcom fashion by Jean Gilpin) foregrounds Pike a bit too much, with the rest of the ensemble sidelined to detrimental effect. When the other cast members are present it's not much better though. In fact, a lengthy slapstick routine involving musical chairs in a staff car represents the series at its absolute worst: an unfunny premise, executed poorly. There's one interesting scene in The Making of Private Pike in which Wilson, believing Pike has had a more amorous adventure than he actually has, gives him a fatherly talk about how the values of their day aren't necessarily that progressive, aligning his own mindset with the gradually more permissive 70s attitudes from when the episode aired. It's quite a bold move given that many of Dad's Army's viewership probably disagreed with Wilson's wisdom and it ends the episode on a better note than the rest of it deserves. Still, with Ian Lavender now in his 30s, the naive boy routine was beginning to look as strange as clearly ailing old men doing slapstick.
Dad's Army: Wake-Up Walmington (1977)
A pale imitation of Ring Dem Bells
After a lull in series 7 that seemed to suggest Dad's Army was past its best, a surprisingly terrific series 8 turned this around again with some exceptional scripts and the cast seeming engaged once again. Unfortunately, the first episode of the ninth and final series is indicative of a show in winddown once again. It's clear from the obviously flagging health of the cast that Dad's Army doesn't have long left. Arnold Ridley is looking very old at this stage and is being used very tentatively, but it is even more apparent that John Le Mesurier is struggling, with recent health problems having left him looking worryingly gaunt. It ends up making the experience of watching Dad's Army feel a little sad but that's not helped by the decline in quality of the scripts. Wake-Up Walmington feels like an attempt to recreate the success of series 8 opener Ring Dem Bells in which the platoon appeared as Nazis in a training film. That felt like a natural way to get them into unusual costumes but Wake-Up Walmington's plot about jolting the town out of their complacency by dressing as fifth columnists is a real stretch and feels like a poor excuse to get everyone dressed in silly clothes. It's more akin to the weak opening scene of the previous year's Christmas special The Love of Three Oranges, which had Fraser in a wedding dress and Godfrey in a clown suit. When silly costumes is the thing you're trying to crowbar in, it's clear your series is on its last legs. Wake-Up Walmington falls back on this hard, with the scene in which each cast member comes out in a daft get-up feeling like a bad Royal Variety Show sketch. The audience respond with rapturous applause but it's the sort of response that peters out into immediate dissatisfaction. Dad's Army is clearly on its way out.
Dad's Army: The Love of Three Oranges (1976)
Lacklustre but comforting enough Christmas viewing
The only episode of Dad's Army in 1976 was this disappointing Christmas special which, while not awful by any means, does feel like a return to the lacklustre episodes of series seven after the excellent return to form of series 8. Set largely at a charity bazaar in the church hall (save for an overly silly early scene involving the platoon's snow camouflage suits which finds Godfrey wearing a clown costume and Fraser in his mother's wedding dress), The Love of Three Oranges is merely a series of gags about the various stalls and attractions that doesn't really build to much. Hodges' auctioning of three oranges, which Mainwaring wants in order to appease his wife, is the major set-piece but it is only mildly amusing, while a sweet gesture in which Mainwaring shares the orange with the platoon is upended by a feeble final punchline. Who wants to see Hodges get the last laugh at Christmas?! Not a great episode then but comfortingly familiar enough as filler for the Christmas schedule.
Dad's Army: My Brother and I (1975)
Very good Christmas special but something of a missed opportunity
The 1975 Christmas special My Brother and I is especially notable for a great dual role for Arthur Lowe as both Mainwaring and his alcoholic brother, Barry. Lowe makes each character so distinct from the other that it's easy to forget it's the same actor at times, despite the dated split-screen effects. He changes his entire body language and demonstrates, through his accent and mannerisms, the working class background of which Mainwaring is partly proud and partly ashamed. A dispute over their dead father's watch, which Mainwaring has and Barry wants, allows for a subtextual examination of family ties, with its resolution being quietly moving without being overly sentimental. It is nicely punctuated by Godfrey's delight in the simple pleasures of a cucumber sandwich. Though this is a very good episode in many ways, the route it ultimately goes down involving a slapstick routine with the platoon trying to remove an inebriated Barry unseen from the church hall is a little disappointing given the emotional charge of the early scenes. If Croft and Perry had explored the Mainwaring brothers' relationship a little deeper, this could've been a classic, especially since they had an extra ten minutes on the usual half hour runtime. Sadly, they are kept apart following their first meeting and only Mainwaring's final gesture betrays anything further about the fractured but inescapable link between them.
Dad's Army: The Face on the Poster (1975)
An excellent ending to a great series 8
A great climax to a surprisingly excellent eighth series, The Face on the Poster finds Dad's Army once again firing on all cylinders. A farcical plot in which a recruitment poster featuring Jones's image is mixed up at the printers with a poster bearing the image of an escaped prisoner of war is just the frame on which Croft and Perry hang various nicely worked out scenes. There are more of those great Mainwaring and Wilson interactions, this time involving an amusingly pompous Confidential Report which Wilson struggles to take seriously, and Mainwaring's disapproval over the casual way in which Wilson stands, which becomes a good running gag. There's a fun routine involving Jones being unable to sit still long enough to be photographed, which plays like a neat little vaudeville sketch, and then the mistaken identity conclusion wraps things up nicely with an amusingly bleak ending for the platoon in which they all wind up behind bars. After a seventh series that was noticeably struggling in the face of cast changes and waning energy all round, series eight put Dad's Army right back on top again.
Dad's Army: High Finance (1975)
A great episode with one telling sign of its era
Another very good episode in an eighth series that has bounced back significantly, High Finance is focused more on the bank than the Home Guard, as Mainwaring tries to get to the bottom of Jones's borderline insolvency. Beginning with a wonderful scene in the bank in which a meeting with Jones inspires a beautifully written and performed discussion about duty and sentimentalism between Wilson and Mainwaring, High Finance finds room for some excellent physical comedy involving Pike, a tray of sand, a bowl of sugar, a cleaver and a bowler hat. As the rest of the platoon begins to pitch in to help Jones, there's that sweet comradeship that is at the heart of all the best Dad's Army episodes. Ultimately, the episode ends with an Agatha Christie style assembling of all the suspects in order for Mainwaring to reveal the horrifying truth... and it is horrifying! In a moment that is a sign of Dad's Army's era, it turns out Hodges has been overcharging Mrs. Pike for rent and has been attempting to blackmail her into having sex with him. This isn't depicted as acceptable by any means but it is also telling that a good smack from Wilson is deemed to be enough punishment for Hodges to be back in the role of comedy antagonist next week. Still, this issue makes High Finance an interesting document of its time and it's good to see the behaviour is disapproved of by all, even if not to the extent it would be today.
Dad's Army: Come In, Your Time Is Up (1975)
A slight comedown in a good eighth series
After a strong start to series 8 with two good episodes and a late era classic, Come In, Your Time is Up is a slight comedown. A sillier episode involving a lot of slapstick bits with people falling in the water, this tale of the platoon encountering a group of Nazis while on a camping trip just about gets by on its heightened stakes but the jokes are a bit weaker than normal and the pace drags a little. Still, the cast appears to be enjoying themselves, still riding high on their return to form after a seventh series in which many of them seemed a little bored. Though it doesn't completely derail what has so far been a very good eighth series, Come In, Your Time is Up is not one of the better late era episodes.
Dad's Army: Is There Honey Still for Tea? (1975)
A late era classic, mixing humour and melancholia to devastating effect
Dad's Army peaked with its brilliant third, fourth and fifth series and, while there have been exceptions like The Deadly Attachment and The Honourable Man, few episodes since have reached the quality of the show's heyday. What a delight then to discover this late era classic, a wonderfully emotional episode that gives every cast member a chance to shine. I'm a sucker for Arnold Ridley as Godfrey, pretty much the sweetest old man imaginable. On the rare occasions he is the focus of an episode, Dad's Army's big heart is always prominently on display. Is There Honey Still for Tea? Is no exception, a wistful episode which mixes ample laughs with a sense of desperate melancholy to remarkable effect. The plot involves Mainwaring being asked to break the news to Godfrey that his beloved cottage is to be demolished to make way for a new aerodrome. Each member of the platoon has a bash at telling Godfrey the devastating news but none of them can bring themselves to go through with it. Lovely scenes abound, from an afternoon tea in Godfrey's idyllic garden to a heartwarming moment in which Jones offers to move Godfrey in with him. The capper to all this comes as Fraser is unexpectedly the one to save the day, albeit in a typically cynical way. John Laurie finally seems to be back on track with his performance here after it drifted into pantomime for a couple of series, and the final image of another afternoon tea at Godfrey's being destroyed by the nearby aerodrome's noisy blast is a perfect punchline. An absolute delight.
Dad's Army: When You've Got to Go (1975)
Ian Lavender continues to impress
From being largely a background character in the very early series, Pike has gradually come into his own across the years. With the death of James Beck leaving a noticeable hole in the ensemble, Ian Lavender stepped up impressively to fill the void and writers Croft and Perry seem to have recognised this as by this stage Pike had become one of the most prominent sources of laughs. Having stolen the opening episode of series 8, Ring Dem Bells, with his Nazi officer impersonation, Pike is once again the focus here as he receives his call up papers and develops a nervous facial tic as a result. This gives Lavender the opportunity to play broad physical comedy with a more emotional layer underneath. A separate plot about a blood drive dovetails nicely with the main plot towards the end, culminating in a sweet final scene with a celebratory fish and chip meal. If When You've Got to Go still isn't quite at the level of the show's heyday, it easily maintains an uptick in quality that followed the lacklustre ending of series 6 and first half of series 7. It's good to see the material improving and the ensemble back on form. If it's clear that Dad's Army is nearing the end of its natural lifespan, it's rocky transition into old age is blossoming into a graceful dotage.
Dad's Army: Ring Dem Bells (1975)
A nice start to series 8
A nice start to series 8, Ring Dem Bells finds an original angle as the platoon are recruited to appear as Nazi soldiers in a training film and cause havoc when they take a break at a local pub while still in full costume. While it doesn't quite scale the heights of prime era Dad's Army, Ring Dem Bells is consistently funny and a promising opener for a new series. Particularly notable is Ian Lavender's performance. Lavender's comedic skills had been noticeably improving in recent series and Croft and Perry seem to acknowledge that by giving him better material. In this case, Pike is cast as a German Officer and takes full advantage of his fictional promotion by leaning into the role heavily, complete with accent and monocle.
Dad's Army: Turkey Dinner (1974)
A quaint, agreeable ending to a slightly disappointing seventh series
The seventh series of Dad's Army draws to a close with a quaint finale that is a fairly accurate reflection of this low-key six episode run. The seventh series is often defined by many as the Cheeseman year, with Talfryn Thomas's temporary replacement for James Beck's Walker appearing in five episodes. Though Cheeseman is often blamed for the weakness of this series, he really doesn't do enough to justify that poor reputation. He is generally kept in the background, barely more visible than Private Sponge, and when he does interject, his character is not defined as anything more than prominently Welsh. As such, there was no real reason to keep him around, especially since the absence of James Beck had, by this point, made it apparent that he was irreplaceable in the ensemble.
Turkey Dinner, in which a drunken session for the platoon results in Jones accidentally shooting a turkey, is actually a nice ending to the series. I like the way that the farce leading up to the turkey's demise is all just described rather than shown, and everyone is nicely in character, with Mainwaring's moral determination to pay for the dead turkey and the platoon's decision to serve it to the local pensioners all tapping into the good-heartedness of Dad's Army that felt largely absent in earlier series 7 episodes. The plot is thin but comfortably enjoyable and the episode's climactic routine about Mainwaring getting gravy on his formalwear has a nice, familiar vaudeville feel to it that chimes with the wartime setting. If series 7 does still feel like a bit of a disappointment, its second half picks up to a sufficient extent that there's still some hope for what's left to come.
Dad's Army: The Captain's Car (1974)
Not a classic but series seven has found its feet
As with the previous episode The Godiva Incident, The Captain's Car isn't classic Dad's Army but it does at least feel like the series we love, rather than a pale imitation of it. After a wobbly opening three episodes for series seven, this one feels comfortable and provides the sort of warm feeling you hope for when sitting down to watch Dad's Army. The ensemble are working well together and, even if the farce is a little meek, they sell it with an easy charm. The payoff, in which Hodges ends up with a dirty face, feels like a bit of a feeble punchline for a lengthy setup, but it's merely the last beat in a good final scene in which the farcical elements coalesce into another pompous ceremony undermined by Croft and Perry's gently amusing writing.
Dad's Army: The Godiva Affair (1974)
A return to form
After a ropey start to series seven, with episodes that felt either bland, silly or inconsistent with established characters, The Godiva Affair finally gets back to something akin to classic Dad's Army. Though it's not quite up there with the very best episodes, this feels like the ensemble is back on the same page and making use of their multi-faceted performance styles. OK, so John Laurie is still strangely overplaying Fraser (perhaps due to the presence of Talfryn Thomas as Cheeseman, who's tendency to play to the audience reportedly left Laurie feeling threatened) but overall this neat little script works very nicely. We have the first act in which the platoon get to rehearse a Morris dance, supplying the broader slapstick laughs, and then we get the fumbled attempts by Mainwaring to help Jones sort out his love life, leaving Mrs. Fox believing that Mainwaring is another one of her growing list of suitors. Pamela Cundell is always a hoot as the glamorous widow and she gets much more material to work with here, while the amorous misunderstandings never reach ridiculous levels and instead give way to an amusingly bawdy subplot about a Lady Godiva parade. Crucially, the well-meaning attempts by Mainwaring to help out his friend finally reinstate the sweetness at the core of Dad's Army, which had been strangely missing for a while at this point. This felt like something of a homecoming.
Dad's Army: Gorilla Warfare (1974)
Very silly but it has some nice moments
Rightly considered one of the the silliest episodes of Dad's Army, I was surprised to also find that Gorilla Warfare is my favourite episode of series seven so far. That's not to say it's especially great... I mean, it involves a training exercise in which a sabotage attempt is launched on the platoon by a man in a gorilla suit. Even in a series that regularly leans into farce, that's a bit too much! But in and around that ludicrous premise there are some nice moments, including a lovely scene in which the platoon bed down for the night in a barn. This gets back to the core of Dad's Army, with great character interactions and some nice gags instead of broad gimmicks. I still clearly remember watching this episode as a kid and then the next day at school everyone doing Fraser's "story of the old, empty barn" bit. That it was these moments I remembered rather than the daft stuff with the gorilla shows where the series' strength always lay, even for a primary school aged child.
Dad's Army: A Man of Action (1974)
An overstuffed episode which dumbs down Mainwaring's character
A Man of Action is a strange episode of Dad's Army. It's a little funnier than the fairly mundane series seven opener Everybody's Trucking, but it purchases those laughs at the expense of character. It also feels like an episode that tries to cram too much into half an hour, beginning with a plot about Pike getting his head caught in some railings before segueing into a plot about an emergency situation causing Mainwaring to take charge and declare martial law. Why these two plots have been rammed together I have no idea. Perhaps the farcical Pike plot is a bit of a weak premise to carry an episode alone but the martial law plot has great potential if explored over a full runtime. Instead it is squeezed into about fifteen minutes and the thrust of it depicts Mainwaring as a megalomaniac who thrives on power with scant consideration for the war effort or the people his amateur dictator antics are affecting. Mainwaring has always been portrayed as basically heroic, with the good heart of a strong leader beating beneath his stuffy exterior. That's what makes him interesting and lovable. This version of the character is detrimentally dumbed down to the point of being unsympathetic. On top of all that, this is also the episode that introduces the character of Cheeseman, the fleeting Walker replacement who proved to be too underdeveloped and cartoony to endure. His presence does little to make A Man of Action any worse but it does increase the scattershot messiness, with another plot strand packed into an episode already juggling two.
Only Fools and Horses: Sleepless in Peckham...! (2003)
Crass and anticlimactic retread of old themes
I fell in love with Only Fools and Horses because of John Sullivan's brilliant writing, which often involved intricate plots, clever scams, surprise twists and brilliant characters and dialogue. The original final episode, Time on Our Hands, provided a satisfying, moving and thematically fitting ending. But, whether because of offers of money, a desire to see his old mates or a genuine feeling that he could improve on his original ending, Sullivan was persuaded to bring the series back for three Christmas specials across 2001, 2002 and 2003. The first of these was abysmal, the second, while not good, was a small improvement. But the third was set to become the new official ending to the series, something that was sealed by Sullivan's subsequent untimely death. So what was the plot to be of this momentous, historic episode? How about this: Del and Rodney think Denzil and Marlene, who have both disappeared, have been having an affair and that Boycie has killed his wife as a result. It turns out that Denzil had piles and Marlene was having a boob job. Sounds great, get it written!
OK, I'm being unfair. While this ludicrous plot is featured heavily, ultimately the focus shifts to the much more appropriately weighty issue of Rodney's parentage, with the reveal that he has a different father from Del setting up the emotional climax. But here's the problem: we already knew all this. Defenders of Sleepless in Peckham (clever pun on Seattle there) claim that Sullivan had to go back to tie up the loose ends left by previous special The Frog's Legacy, in which the story of Rodney's alleged Dad, the gentleman thief Freddie "The Frog" Robdal, was introduced. But the doubt about Rodney's parentage had been a running theme throughout the series, with his obvious physical differences from the other Trotters deliberately designed to imply something from the start, before it was directly addressed first in Thicker Than Water and then The Frog's Legacy. But those episodes implied without the need to confirm. We gain nothing by "solving" the mystery.
Although the gravitas of Sleepless in Peckham's final act befits a finale, the writing gets heavy-handedly sentimental and the jokes just stop altogether. Still, given the crass gags that precede it, this is something of a relief! The jokes include the piles and boob job nonsense, a scene that implies Trigger, now unbelievably stupid, doesn't understand how blinking works, and Rodney discussing his fears of being raped in prison. And having managed to come up with the perfect closing line for the entire series in Time on Our Hands, Sullivan bizarrely chooses to end Sleepless in Peckham with a bland bit of dialogue that isn't even really a joke and feels completely anticlimactic. So there you have it: an episode that ends the series by confirming what we already knew and doing it badly. An unfortunate ending to a classic series.
Only Fools and Horses: Strangers on the Shore...! (2002)
A marginal improvement but still bad
After 2001's abysmal return for the Trotters, it was with heavy hearts but a dutiful sense of curiosity that we sat down the following Christmas to watch Strangers on the Shore. Perhaps lowered expectations played a part but Strangers on the Shore is a noticeable improvement over If They Could See Us Now. Some of the same problems are still evident, from crasser material to broader performances, but basically this feels like a bad episode of Only Fools and Horses rather than some fan-made attempt by someone who has managed to clone and then enslave the cast. There are even one or two laughs here, until things begin to careen out of control in the final act. There's a bit more structure to Strangers on the Shore than its aimless, exposition-heavy predecessor. A first half based around Del and Rodney attending a naval reunion in France nicely leads into a second half based around an apparent illegal immigrant they accidentally bring back with them. Interludes with Boycie also finally wind their way into the main plot towards the end, giving Strangers on the Shore a feeling of something closer to John Sullivan's more intricate writing in Only Fools and Horses' heyday.
Unfortunately, the writing in Strangers on the Shore is not as sharp as it needs to be. The naval reunion sequence descends into a ludicrous joke about Del and Rodney assuming Albert has fathered a whole town of bearded men, while any hopes that Sullivan might explore the theme of immigration with an astute satirical bent are scuppered when Nabil Elouahabi's character becomes a retrograde "funny foreigner" whose relentless intonations of "Gary" seem custom made for British viewers to practice their generic racist accent routine by quoting later. If Strangers on the Shore comes off more like a hamfisted farce than anything deeply offensive, its content still feels "very 2000s" twenty years down the line.
Only Fools and Horses: If They Could See Us Now.....! (2001)
The absolute nadir of the whole series
First of all, it's important to note that I don't dole out half star ratings lightly. Frequently, when you see a half star rating, it is a petulant reaction to a plot point that someone didn't want to happen despite the fact it made complete narrative sense, or an act of personal prejudice based on the foregrounding of a character who doesn't exactly match the reviewer's own gender or ethnicity. Half star reviews based on silly tantrums or ingrained bigotry litter review sites and soil rating systems so I try to ensure when I give a half star to something, I really mean it. I'm not the only one to saddle If They Could See Us Now, the ill-advised 2001 comeback episode of Only Fools and Horses, with the lowest possible rating but several reviewers seem to have been so angry that the show came back at all that they forgot to focus on the episode content itself. That's a shame, as there's plenty to justify the half star rating right there on the screen. I was not happy about Only Fools and Horses returning after the 1996 Christmas trilogy ended the story so perfectly, but had If They Could See Us Now been a decent episode in any way I would've reflected that in my assessment. But it really is very, very bad.
An immediate problem with If They Could See Us Now is that it attempts to reset the premise of the show by having the Trotters lose all their money and wind up back in Nelson Mandela House. Aside from the unlikelihood of this scenario, writer John Sullivan spends a good chunk of the first twenty minutes or so visibly struggling to justify it through pointless recaps (I doubt many people started watching the show for the first time at this point) and clunky-as-hell exposition. In one scene, the absence of the deceased Buster Merryfield is explained by Rodney announcing to Del how he is living with Elsie Partridge now, as if Del wouldn't already be fully aware of this information. Sullivan might as well have had Rodney turn to the camera and break the fourth wall! But the major problem with the status quo-restoring premise is that, while you can put all the game pieces back to their original places on the board, you can't change the events of the previous game. The quest to become millionaires around which so much of Only Fools and Horses was based is completely undermined as a premise if the characters have already been millionaires, even more so by the fact that they were millionaires who found the experience unfulfilling. That beautiful final scene in Time on Our Hands in which Del talks about how being rich is not like he dreamed it would be is pretty much torpedoed by this cheap reset, along with the themes of the whole previous Christmas trilogy.
Like I said though, these things would matter slightly less had If They Could See Us Now been a decent episode. But it's not. Immediately something feels off. The writing is terrible, obvious and crass. There are weird jokes about Damien peeping at Cassandra in the bathroom and Del looking at her pants. During a Who Wants to Be a Millionaire parody, the phrase "fastest finger" is paralleled with what Rodney and Cassandra are doing in the bedroom. Del deals with a disappointment by going to a lap dancing club. It all feels so much more lowest common denominator. This is not helped by the fact that the cast have either forgotten how to play their roles or are so unimpressed with the material that they're not really trying.
The death of Buster Merryfield should've been a sign not to push ahead with these episodes. The central three generations of Trotter were always crucial to the show's dynamic. When Lennard Pearce died the show was still in its infancy and Sullivan was able to bring in a convincing replacement. Even when Albert was comparatively marginalised in later episodes, his presence was always felt. But not as much as his absence is. Sullivan could always write pathos well but Albert's funeral is dashed off ham-fistedly with a lazy joke about the Trotters accidentally attending the wrong funeral of another ex-military man who was coincidentally also called Albert and who's funeral happens to be directly across the road. Though Del's anger at a man he thinks is disrespecting Albert gives us a passing glimmer of the tight family dynamic so pivotal to Only Fools and Horses' success, the fact that Del and Rodney miss their Uncle's funeral seems like a missed opportunity to have included some heartfelt scenes that reunite the old gang from the Nag's Head.
I'm in danger of criticising If They Could See Us Now for what it isn't, a classic move of the bitter and entitled fan, so I should get back to the amply terrible things that it is instead. If Merryfield's death wasn't a good enough reason to abandon these new episodes, the death of Kenneth MacDonald who played Mike should've been the final straw. Perhaps Sullivan was too far into the process to abandon the script by this stage, but Mike's absence (explained by him being in prison) necessitates the repurposing of Sid from the café, who is suddenly relocated to the Nag's Head where he was never seen previously. The writing for some of the other regulars is also off. Trigger, who's role Sullivan seemed to have mastered completely by the end of the original run, is given a very questionable joke that seems to suggest he is schizophrenic, casting his whole character in an uncomfortable light that doesn't even entirely make sense. There's a scene where Mickey Pierce calls Rodney pretending to be the Sultan of Brunai and Rodney believes him. Even when he was the naive young man at the very beginning of the series, Rodney was never portrayed as flat-out stupid as he is here.
About that Who Wants to Be a Millionaire parody I eluded to earlier. Originally, it was intended to actually be Who Wants to Be a Millionaire on which Del would appear, with Chris Tarrant cameoing instead of a visibly struggling Jonathan Ross. Ultimately, a deal could not be reached with ITV and the plot was changed, though not enough to disguise the fact that Millionaire was clearly the show in the original script. There's that aforementioned telltale "fastest finger" joke, as well as the fact that the plot uses a phone-a-friend lifeline and Rodney uses the standard WWTBAM approved parlance of "100%." In a way though, it would've been worse had ITV given their approval, exacerbating the feel of a bad Comic Relief spinoff sketch that already hangs over proceedings. The Millionaire crossover seems to have been the big guns that Sullivan was relying on to make his new script work. Elsewhere, we get a lazy retread of the costume comedy of Heroes and Villains, a broad stroke that Sullivan got away with once but which feels old hat and desperate here, especially since it is paired with a moment in which Del lurks smirkingly around an oblivious Rodney which is essentially a replay of a much better scene from the earlier Happy Returns.
I knew that If They Could See Us Now was going to be bad but I wasn't quite prepared for just how dreadful it was. I honestly found the viewing experience depressing. If memory serves, while they're still not good, I think the remaining two specials from 2002 and 2003 at least marginally improve on If They Could See Us Now. I will be very surprised indeed if this doesn't turn out to be the nadir of the whole series.
Only Fools and Horses: Time on Our Hands (1996)
A near perfect ending that should be remembered as such
Time on Our Hands was such a perfect way to end the story of Only Fools and Horses that it beggars belief it was ever brought back and even if those episodes had been any good, it still would've sullied the intricate continuity of what John Sullivan managed to make into a cleverly cyclical narrative. Long time fans of the series were quick to spot how a key plot point hinges on Del and Rodney having a receipt from a house clearance. The very first episode of the show, Big Brother, featured an argument in which Del chided Rodney for keeping receipts. These kind of details show how Time on Our Hands can only work if it is the climax it was designed to be. In a nice tip of the hat to some of the show's most famous running gags, the episode includes a fantastic "During the war" joke and one of the funniest jokes about Del's French phrases, all of which build to the climactic twist on one of Del's most famous catchphrases: "This time next year, we'll be billionaires." That is clearly the perfect closing line and, if we remove the context of what we know happened next and place ourselves back in 1996, it still is.
If the nostalgia-tinged vibe of Time on Our Hands ultimately results in a few of the old-style sexist jokes slipping through (the seven fat cows and seven skinny ones being the most obvious example), for the most part Time on Our Hands is a moving and uplifting end to the Trotters' story. Following the devastating ending of Modern Men, the first half of Time on Our Hands is largely consumed with the fallout from Cassandra's miscarriage and Del's attempts to get Rodney to confront his feelings rather than fall into a spiral of depression and alcohol abuse. The scenes in which Del rigs the lift in Nelson Mandela House to break down so that Rodney will have no choice but to talk to him is a great example of Del being devious but for the right reasons. Though there are exceptions (notably a couple of instances in which Del took a beating to help Rodney), often when Del is helping Rodney there is at least an inkling of an ulterior motive to his actions. Here, Del is thinking only of his brother and the resulting scenes turn the old comedy staple of characters stuck in a lift into a heart-wrenching moment of self-realisation. Nicholas Lyndhurst, so often existing in David Jason's shadow throughout the series, is excellent in his convincing emotional breakdown, managing to make the slightly overwritten monologue Sullivan gives him sound convincing and affecting.
Following a very funny dinner sequence with Raquel's parents which serves as a comedy cushion after the raw scenes in the lift, Time on Our Hands segues into the much publicised plot about the discovery of the rare antique watch which will make the Trotters into millionaires. Sullivan only leaves himself half an hour to tackle this huge storyline but he uses every second, without ever making it feel rushed. There are big laughs in the now famous auction scene, feelgood sentimental moments (effective in the case of Rodney buying Del the Rolls Royce. Slightly too cheesy in the case of the Trotters being applauded in the Nag's Head), and an excellent final scene at the now empty flat in which Del realises that the thrill of the chase is what he lived for more than the pot of gold he thought was his ultimate prize. The final line finds a way for Del to manufacture that old excitement in a way that suggests a multitude of possible continuations for the story, from thrilling adventures to complete disaster. The open ended question of what happens next is what makes it such a good way to bow out. Unfortunately, in a few years time Sullivan answered that question, and answered it badly.
Still, for five sweet years Only Fools and Horses stood as one of the most well-rounded complete sitcom narratives of all time and, despite the admittedly naff-as-hell sunset effects of the final scene, Time on Our Hands was the finale fans wanted and that the characters deserved. This was a sitcom landmark and it remains so, although it is sadly now one with a sour coda.
Only Fools and Horses: Modern Men (1996)
A brave tonal balancing act that pays off
The second part of the Only Fools and Horses Christmas trilogy is often considered to be the weakest of the three, but Modern Men is at least on a par with Heroes and Villains for me. It doesn't quite tie together as neatly or establish such a consistently vibrant tone, but Sullivan is going for something different here, with a fine blend of moods which begins with the same celebratory tone of Heroes and Villains final scenes, introduces a sense of melancholy in its mid-section's focus on financial worries and dissatisfaction, and then crashes into tragedy with the abrupt severity with which it arrives in real life.
Sullivan and director Tony Dow juggle Modern Men's diverse moods impressively, with the opening scenes of celebrations in the flat and at the Nag's Head perfectly chiming with the vicarious atmospheric demands of the Christmas TV viewer. There's a barrowload of great material here, including the Turn Your Hands Over running gag which begins as vaguely amusing and then becomes inspired with the arrival of Trigger. By this point, Sullivan had really got the knack of knowing just when and where to deploy this character and Modern Men, like Heroes and Villains before it, features some terrific Trigger material. There is also one of those women-as-dogs jokes that used to be in practically every episode of the early series of Only Fools and Horses but understandably thinned out considerably in later years. This one, however, is actually very funny in that it turns the laughter back on Del as he tries to navigate his ingrained sexism to pay Raquel a compliment and obliviously makes a fool of himself. It's the sort of cleverly constructed moment that not only retrospectively undermines those earlier instances of sexism but also plays into the episode's central theme of Del's attempts to move with the times with the aid of a self-help book.
The focus on progressive 90s attitudes leads to the strangest element of the episode, in which everyone seems to find the idea of a vasectomy both hilarious and embarrassing. Though it's obviously a very personal thing, I don't recall ever encountering the attitude that a vasectomy is hysterical. Perhaps the idea is that in Del's circle such a thing would likely be seen as emasculating, but the characters we see laughing hardest about it are the comparatively mature Rodney and Raquel. The subplot with Dr. Singh also feels like his character is the victim of a distinct case of othering in the nervous way in which he is spoken about in reference to his religion ("an angry Sikh after our blood"), a weak dream sequence in which he is painted as a vengeful figure, and in the retrograde gags about turbans, with the whole Trotter's Crash Turbans scene threatening to derail the episode. All these things accurately reflect the characters, setting and era but they feel slightly off to modern eyes.
Fortunately, the small amount of time dedicated to Dr. Singh and the Crash Turbans is interrupted by Modern Men's shock ending. Cassandra's miscarriage is one of the biggest narrative gambles Sullivan takes in this trilogy, especially since elements of the aftermath are played for comedy, but it's a tonal balancing act he negotiates skilfully and ultimately the storyline serves as a crucial counterpoint to the subsequent episode's storyline about the Trotters becoming millionaires. Rather than go for the full-on materialistic Back to the Future style ending, Sullivan's original ending for the series highlights how money can't buy everything or solve all your problems. What Cassandra and Rodney go through here is a key example of this, with the money they ultimately come into proving unable to erase the trauma of what they've been through.
Despite its very sad ending, Modern Men isn't a complete downer. The first 50 minutes are replete with excellent comedy bits, including an extended scene in which Rodney accidentally applies for his own job. When the bombshell hits, the laughs don't completely dry up. In the riskiest move of all, Sullivan constructs a comedy routine around Del's inability to hold back his devastation on seeing Cassandra. It sounds very awkward and I'm sure some people would find it bordering on bad taste, but this is Sullivan's astute character comedy at its finest. The joke is a simple one: Del gives Rodney a tough-love pep-talk about being strong for Cassandra and then immediately goes to pieces at the sight of her. But there's an underlying warmth to the whole bit, regarding Del's macho façade, his soft centre and his love for his sister-in-law. David Jason plays it brilliantly, with a display of emotion that walks the delicate line of not being too over-the-top fake but also not so real that the joke gets lost. After a string of previous Christmas specials involving the Trotters' relationships falling apart, it is refreshing and gratifying to see one about how the whole family pulls together to support each other in a time of crisis.
In an addendum that has no bearing on my rating of the episode but which may negatively affect the appreciation of first time viewers, there is a version of Modern Men doing the rounds (I've heard it reported as currently being the version on Amazon Prime and formerly the one on Netflix) in which the drastic cuts made to the ending render it strange and unfunny, when originally it was a huge cathartic laugh and one of my favourite closing scenes of the series. It involves Del, still raw from having seen Cassandra and still wearing surgical scrubs, punching out a drunken yob in the waiting room who is abusing the hospital staff. Mistaking him for a doctor, the yob admits he feels better and thanks him, after which Del turns to the other shocked patients and says "Bet you wish you'd gone private now, don't you?" On the original broadcast, I remember the punch receiving cheers from the audience and that final line getting a big laugh, followed by applause as the credits rolled. Only Fools and Horses is a show that has been subject to many cuts over the years, including for music rights issues and also dated content. I'm not the type to complain about the "Woke brigade" and I think that the sometimes clumsy attempts to address problematic material are necessary in the process of finding a solution to suit everyone (the addition of warnings to certain episodes that then present the material uncut seems to be the best solution we have so far, working especially well for streamed content). But the cuts to Modern Men are baffling. It seems someone has deemed it inappropriate to cheer violence and laugh at its aftermath, and the audience reactions have been removed entirely. This gives the impression that we're supposed to be watching this final scene with a sort of grim reverence, which ironically makes it seem more like the violence is being endorsed rather than played as the actions of flawed characters intended to inspire laughter. Muddying the waters still further, a good 5 seconds or so after the joke and following an awkward silence, a small ripple of laughter has been added before a terrible segue into the theme tune that sounds like a sound error. The climactic applause has been removed. With all the cuts that have been made over the years, it is getting very difficult to keep track of which versions of each Only Fools and Horses episode can be found where. If you've never seen Modern Men before, just be aware that this version is out there in some places and severely damages an excellent final 10 minutes.
Only Fools and Horses: Heroes and Villains (1996)
Big, goofy, fun feelgood episode
When people talk about Christmas TV events, the 1996 Only Fools and Horses Christmas trilogy is the one I really remember. I was 14 at the time and a big fan of the show, so the whole family sat down and watched the three episodes as they went out, starting on Christmas Day and then at two day intervals. Intended to finally end the series, the secret that the Trotters would become millionaires in the final episode was unfortunately thoroughly blown by the press, although some of them erroneously reported that they would do so by winning the lottery. Fortunately, John Sullivan presented the nation with an intricately written trilogy which played to all the strengths of the show, incorporating broad laughs and clever character comedy, the highs and lows of family drama, appearances by all the classic characters you'd expect to see, and an ending that perfectly mixed the ultimate high with the melancholia Sullivan was so adept at finding in his now firmly established world.
What I noticed most this time round about Heroes and Villains, part one of the trilogy, is how much broader it is than many of the other episodes. Although it has become an iconic image associated with Only Fools and Horses, Del and Rodney dressed as Batman and Robin is a goofier concept than Sullivan usually explored in this particular series and there's also a slapstick chase sequence, a joke about Uncle Albert accidentally drinking a urine sample and a fantasy dream sequence. The latter opens the episode, with Rodney imagining a dystopian future in which Damien has become a dictator-like figure. Parts of it parody Dennis Potter's Cold Lazarus, a big Channel 4 production from the same year which has now been largely forgotten, but the sequence works well enough without knowing the reference points. I was expecting this opening to be sillier than it actually is but this time round I noticed that Sullivan is already setting up his ending here, with Rodney's plea of "I want to go back to how it used to be" foreshadowing the Trotters' difficult transition into the high life, something that only becomes apparent when you've seen the whole trilogy.
Though the broader approach does come as a surprise after a handful of much bleaker Christmas specials, it is ultimately a very welcome change of pace and captured with skill by Tony Dow's direction. The urine drinking scene, for instance, turns an old and tired concept into genuine hilarity through the performances of all three leads. And the Batman and Robin sequence became iconic for a reason, refusing to rely simply on the cheap laugh of some funny costumes (although there's nothing wrong with a good cheap laugh, and this one works well) and instead running with the concept in some truly outlandish plotting that ultimately knits the episode together very neatly come the final credits. After several years of spending Christmas watching the Trotter family struggle against the threat of broken homes, the happy ending of Heroes and Villains is much appreciated and made it the perfect choice for Christmas Day viewing. It still works in that way, even when you know the grim avenues that some of these storylines will eventually explore across the whole trilogy.
There's a lot packed into Heroes and Villains' sprightly hour-long runtime. This is also the episode with the legendary Trigger's broom routine, with Sullivan continuing to write cracking material for Roger Lloyd Pack to deadpan his way through. Though the plot here goes to some far-fetched places, the writing also feels a good deal less forced than it did at times in the previous special Fatal Extraction, making Heroes and Villains one of the most purely enjoyable of the Only Fools and Horses Christmas specials. When the Trotters clink their Champagne glasses together in celebration at the end of the episode, it feels like a celebration of the return of a phenomenon that proved to be worth the three year wait. The Only Fools and Horses Christmas special was back!